


Noctilucent

by glim



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Background Poly, Cuddling & Snuggling, Holding Hands, Multi, Sam Wilson Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 11:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11289978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: Outside, the vast expanse of stars silently slips past them, but inside the hum of the ship surrounds them. Sam dials down the lights and closes his eyes; he's got his ship, he's got his family, he's good.





	Noctilucent

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the AU: Space square on my Trope Bingo Round 7 card.

Sam waits for the series of quiet clicks before he leans back in his seat and watches the control panel settle into a soft, muted glow as the cockpit grows dim. The brightness of the stars around ship sharpens and, for a moment, their light stands out still and stark against the darkness. 

"We're in nocturnal mode," Sam says. "Cycle through vigil protocol." 

"Always a good day when we make it this far." His pilot flicks a few switches that set the ship into a slow, steady cruise. Another click, and a mellow light floods the cockpit, dimming the stars. "I can take the first watch. Second, too, if you need me to." 

Sam settles back in his seat and turns to look at Bucky. His fingers hover the controls for a moment, then, satisfied with the low hum that follows the settling of the ship into night mode, Bucky lowers his hands and turns to Sam. 

"Go on, get damn some rest instead of yawning at me." 

"What about you? You've been up here since the middle of the day cycle." 

Bucky shrugs. He's a good pilot. Loyal, protective of the ship. Looks after all of them in his quiet way. His hands are pale against the dark blue of his trousers in the low cockpit light, but when he rests one atop Sam's hand, his touch is warm. 

"You've been up longer." 

This time, Sam shrugs. They're in neutral territory tonight, so their night should be an uneventful one. For a few minutes, he sits and watches the sky spread out around their small ship, Bucky's hand over his. He feels safe and strong up here, like he could choose anywhere in the galaxy, like he could be anywhere and feel the same. 

He settles into that moment the same way the ship settles into night mode; slowly, carefully, completely. The tension in his shoulders and back eases up a notch when Bucky squeezes his hand and tugs him to get him up out of his seat. 

He's still got Bucky's hand in his when he stands and only lets go to rest both hands on Bucky's shoulders. Nat will come sit with him, and then, closer to the second watch, Steve, but Sam knows Bucky will want some time alone with the ship and the stars. 

"Good night, Captain," Bucky murmurs.

"Don't crash my ship," Sam says. 

Silence, then when Sam starts to walk away: "Only if you ask nicely." 

*

The lights that line the corridors of the ship fade into a soft golden glow during night mode. They hadn't always been like that--the first few weeks on his ship, Sam can remember walking through each corridor as it cycled into nocturnal, hoping that each time he turned a corner there'd be any sort of light to guide him to the next one.

Nat fixed that. Nat fixed most things on the ship, and what she didn't know how to fix, she... Well, Sam's loathe to say she _learned_ how to fix it, since he's pretty sure she tends to rig something together and hope as hard as she can. 

But, then, hope's gotten them pretty far already. 

Far enough that Sam can walk through his ship as soon as the first night watch starts and listen to his boots ring against floors and walkways lined with a series of gold-white light. 

"Cap," Nat says and looks up from her tablet when Sam steps into the common room. She reaches out a hand for him to come join her on the sofa, then drops her tablet into his lap as soon as he does. "Ship schematics, revised. Okay, not revised, since we had nothing to start with. Schematics, 1.0, our very own." 

"Our own, but mostly yours." 

"Yeah, no, you put a lot of work into those, too." 

"Sure, but... I want your name on these, too, alright?" Sam looks through the images on the tablet, then taps on the screen a few times to send himself the holo-images to examine later. He give Nat a look, holds her gaze until she nods, and then gives her a nod in return. "Did you eat?" 

"Yeah, me and Steve after he brought you your dinner. Dinner and back rubs. You want tea or something, though?" 

He's headed off to bed, but Sam gives a nod anyway, and the smile on Nat's face in reply is worth waiting the time it takes to make and drink the mint-chamomile tea she brings for both of them. They sit, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and the steam, scented with mint and herbs, twists up from their mugs into the small space between them.

"You going to see Steve?" Nat asks when she takes Sam's empty mug, a few long minutes after he's finished his tea. 

"I'm going to my quarters, and I'm hoping he's there--"

"Oh, he's there, you know he is..." Nat gives Sam a look, then rests her head against his shoulder briefly. 

"--and I'm staying there for the first two watches." 

"Right. I'll go make sure Bucky doesn't crash our ship." 

Neither of them move for another minute, though. The room still smells of mint tea, and Sam knows he could settle into this warmth, too, the sort that feels as if it gathers in his chest and radiates, a soft, muted glow that reaches through him. 

* 

"You look happy," Steve says when Sam sits down on the edge of their bed after a hot shower.

Sam looks down, suddenly bashful at how open he must look, how his feelings must be so easily read, in front of Steve. Vulnerability is a kind of warmth, a kind of strength, too, though, Sam knows, and he slides up the bed next to Steve. "It's been a good evening so far..." 

Steve's not actually in bed; he's sprawled atop their rumpled collection of blankets in a pair of pajama pants he commandeered from Sam's clean laundry. He shifts to make room for Sam, then just ends up pulling Sam into his arms so Sam's more on top of him than the bed. 

"Mine just got a lot better. Granted, anything that includes you and not a whole day of weapons mods and strategic cartography has to be better." Steve says and nuzzles a kiss into Sam's hair. "You smell _great_." 

"Mmh, you only say that when I use your soap." Sam rests his hand on Steve's chest, spreads his fingers and flattens his palm over Steve's heart. They've been together like this for five years after meeting on Terra IV and Sam still can't believe how his hand fits, just right, on Steve's chest. "Strategic _cartography_? Rogers, what have you been doing all evening?" 

"Getting us to our next destination without taking this ship through the last remnants of a Hydra starfield." He tenses against Sam, then relaxes when Sam rubs his chest. "Anyway, it's _our_ soap. We got married that one time on that little backwater planet..." 

Sam laughs into Steve's chest and presses a kiss over his heart. "I'm not even sure we're count as married anywhere else." 

Steve's arms tighten around Sam to hold him closer, fond and protective and affectionate, one hand at the small of Sam's back, his lips brushing over Sam's hair again. 

"There has to be somewhere else. Besides," Steve murmurs as he nudges Sam up into a kiss, "There's nowhere you can take me in this ship that I don't belong with you. We don't need anything to prove it." 

Steve sounds so serious that Sam wants to laugh at him again, but when he looks at Steve, all he catches in Steve's eyes is that same content, muted glow that Sam's felt humming beneath his skin all evening. 

"Okay," he says, brushes his nose over Steve's, "I'll just marry you on every planet from now on. Maybe we'll get something more than spare engine parts out of it at some point." 

"Every planet? You'll have to marry Bucky and Nat on some, just to keep it even." 

"Uh, no, you get to marry Bucky. I only have so much patience. I'll crash this ship if I have to live my married life with him." 

That makes Steve laugh and the sound is rich and warm in the small room. "I don't even believe that, and neither do you. C'mere, baby," he says and catches Sam's lips against his own. "Let me take care of you." 

He kisses Sam until Sam's breathless, moves his hands over Sam's body, gentle and then more eager, more needy, until Sam is both breathless and yearning. He doesn't so much settle into this warmth as he falls into it, headlong.

When he stops falling, when he arches up and gasps, it's into Steve's hands and against Steve's mouth, and then they fall together, tangled, happy, spent. 

"Hey," Steve says, later, when they're half-asleep and tucked around each other, "I'd marry you on every planet." He nuzzles behind Sam's ear and kisses him. "And not just for engine parts." 

"Alright, husband. Gonna remember that," Sam replies, letting the words come before he has a chance to think about them. He's sleepy and satisfied, still floating on the pleasure high Steve gave him. 

Outside, the vast expanse of stars silently slips past them, but inside the hum of the ship surrounds them. Sam dials down the lights and closes his eyes; he's got his ship, he's got his family, he's good.


End file.
